The Cribs: The New Fellas : Music Reviews : Rolling Stone

Album Reviews

The Cribs, a Leeds, U.K., trio consisting of brothers Gary, Ryan and Ross Jarman, list early-Nineties American indie punkers such as Trumans Water and Calvin Johnson among their influences. But on The New Fellas, it's clear the Cribs owe a great deal more to less-obscure acts like the Strokes and the Libertines: In barely more than thirty minutes, the Cribs' second LP (released to wide acclaim in England last fall) offers up eleven tracks of ramble-shamble garage with angular guitar riffs that ought to get plenty of asses shaking at the rock & roll disco.

Unlike the Strokes and the Libertines, the Cribs seem to deplore the audience most likely to embrace them. Their disdain for the so-called cool kids is evident in a number of songs on The New Fellas -- from the opening "Hey Scenesters!" ("You are all in trouble now/ Someone's gonna cop it now") to the fist pumper "Wrong Way to Be," which condemns "name-dropping" and "scene-hopping"; "I'm Alright, Me" ends with the refrain "Take drugs, don't eat, have contempt for those you meet." And on "Mirror Kissers," a hook-laden standout where Gary and Ryan's dueling vocals work to particular effect, the chorus goes: "You aren't allowed to say you're better. . . 'cause you're the hipster type." All of this feels a little cynical, and almost dishonest: The Cribs are, after all, pretty goddamn hip themselves. But this goes a long way toward justifying the hype. Sometimes The New Fellas sounds like it was recorded in a tin can at the bottom of the Thames, but the album's reckless abandon and innumerable hooks ought to appeal to scenesters and squares alike.